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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29550981">A Moment Alone</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_mike_kapufty/pseuds/its_mike_kapufty'>its_mike_kapufty</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tumblr Ficlets [30]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rhett &amp; Link</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Daydreaming, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Heart-to-Heart, M/M, aspirations</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:27:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>490</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29550981</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_mike_kapufty/pseuds/its_mike_kapufty</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Link’s brow furrows. “You don’t believe in our work? In anything we produce?”</p>
<p>“I do.” A scolding glare humbles Link. “Don’t put words in my mouth. I just believe in our other qualities more.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tumblr Ficlets [30]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2170695</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Moment Alone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The last flicker of the camera pardons them to the dressing room, and it’s there where Link steps in close, silently requesting a moment of hidden quiet.</p>
<p>“D’you think we could’ve done it?” </p>
<p>His thumb finds the arm of that brown leather jacket, stroking up against the intricate cuts in the fabric. Tactile comforts had always been his go-to when his imagination ran faster than his logic, and all the better should those comforts carry body heat–proof of Rhett’s beating heart within reach. Accessible.</p>
<p>“What’s that?” Rhett asks, setting his guitar aside and bowing his head to meet Link’s eyes. Since they were kids, Rhett had a way of making Link feel like closeness was a space for telling secrets, even in public. <em>I want your words to be mine alone.</em></p>
<p>“Made it big as country singers. Back in their hayday. Rhett and Link. Charlie and Jimmy.” Smirking, Link glances up at Rhett’s locks, tamed to a style past for their shoot. “Me on harmonica. You on guitar. Singin’. Harmonizin’.”</p>
<p>“Like hell I’d play guitar alone. You’d’ve had to learn to play, too. This ain’t no free ride, what if I broke my arm? We’d be out.”</p>
<p>“Rhett.”</p>
<p>Rhett lets the joke ebb, elbowing Link with no more gusto than Link can handle at that moment. “Honestly? Don’t think I could hold a flame to those other pickers. Buck, Cash, Merle? Nah.”</p>
<p>“Right…” A soft nod drops Link’s gaze to Rhett’s soft blue shirt. “Right.”</p>
<p>“With you by my side, though, I don’t reckon anything could’ve stopped us,” Rhett continues, and Link meets his eyes again quickly. “We definitely would’ve had a loyal following. Came up big after our deaths. Cult classic musicians. ‘Course, I don’t think our craft’s ever been the strongest thing about us–even now. That ain’t what it’s all about.”</p>
<p>Link’s brow furrows. “You don’t <em>believe in our work? </em>In anything we produce?”</p>
<p>“I do.” A scolding glare humbles Link. “Don’t put words in my mouth. I just believe in our other qualities more.”</p>
<p>“Like what?” Link dares, lost, and instantly Rhett’s amenable again.</p>
<p>“Y’know,” he goads, chuckling. He pats Link’s shoulder amicably, leaning down to set their sights level. “Chemistry. Friendship. Soulmates. However you wanna look at this.”</p>
<p>The grin is gradual, but it falls over Link’s features like a morning tide. “What, we would’ve just been great because we were together? Even if we sucked, musically? That’s all that would matter?”</p>
<p>“Yep.” Rhett smirks back at him, green eyes highlighted. “Plus, you’re a looker.” With alarming ease, the hand on Link’s shoulder falls and pops the buttons on Link’s red shirt, exposing him to his navel and drawing a shocked gasp from him. “So that helps.”</p>
<p>“I–oh gosh,” Link huffs, examining his bared hairy chest as Rhett laughs. He cocks his head back up, lifting an eyebrow. “You proud? Proud o’ this?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. Was kinda worried I’d end up ripping it.”</p>
<p>“Jerk.”</p>
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